Terminal Resemblance? Death, Train or Bus Stations?

Louise Gluck, Terminal Resemblance This is a link to Amazon: The Norton Anthology of Literature by Women: The Traditions in English. You can find her poem in this book or search the Amazon site for other Louise Gluck titles. The title of this work either leads you straight to death or places. When you read the first lines you find the speaker on the phone and the father pointing at his watch... meaning it is time to go or we will be late. But then the poem shifts to... I want to talk to you before you go. Wow what a shift. You may remember those days when someone important to us says "we need to talk."
          I want to give you a few thoughts to think about as you continue to read. When was the last time you really had a conversation with your Dad? Mom? Brother? Sister? Grandma? Grandpa? ______? really had a conversation, not talking about current events, the weather, or how things are going. I mean, when, if ever, have you had a conversation about how that person has shaped and influenced your life? Or when was the last time you sat down and talked about the philosophies of life and how much you really like learning about the family history? Have you ever been at a family dinner where at the finishing of the last bite that everyone just continued to sit at the table and talk to each other about everything and nothing? Have you ever spent hours and hours looking through old family photographs? Have you really told the important people in your life just how much you love them?
          I want to start with a few lines at the end of the poem, "This time, he waved. That's what I did, at the door to the taxi. Like him, waved to disguise my hand's trembling." (36-38)  I wanted to start at the end so you get the sense of finality, that sets in when you realize all the things you wanted to say and do, if this would be the last time you had the chance to say or do it. Many will tell you that you can not go back in time and therefore do not dwell on the things you can not change, this statement is true. That's why it is ever so important to do things when you can, you may not have another chance. That doesn't mean rob the bank because the vault door is open and nobody is watching.  Question? What is time in the present if there are no more tomorrows?  I am just trying to say that I get the sense that this daughter wanted so badly to break down and hug her daddy and tell how much she loved him and he, her. She did not because that's not the way they did things, they did show openly what was really happening on the inside. Her mother was standing at the door with one arm in her husbands and blowing kisses with the other. Does this look just like the rest of  the neighborhood women standing on the porches? Bidding adieu to their own husband's as they were "going to work." (26) When I read this poem I was reminded of my own father's passing and all the things left unsaid between us, not regrets, just stories to be shared, assured understandings of pride, and thankfulness for helping to shape me into the man I am becoming. Yes, "becoming," because as long as I am alive I will continue to grow and change. Even though my dad is gone his influences are still present in my life.
           I like how Gluck uses the weather to help describe the heaviness of the "talk" that was about to take place, " It was the end of August, very hot, very humid." (9) I get the sense that the tension in the air around the house was just as heavy as the hazy, hot, and humid summer weather. Even amid all this tension on the inside, the appearance on the outside was normal. It was normal for the individuals, family, and community.
          One parting thought: How do we fool ourselves and those around us that things are normal when they are not? My answer is we usually don't. Our close family members and dear love ones (spouse) know when things are not normal on the inside.